Meeting at the end of the world

By Velcea Paul-Alexandru

I met a girl at the end of a season. Snow started to fall a few days after. Few times I've seen her eyes. Fewer songs I've heard been sung, lately.. ain't nobody got time fo that.

Even my poetry is lame. And I find myself not in the mood to rearticulate. I feel as if all the framework are falling apart.

Days and nights and temptations hold little and littler power.

Snow will fall and so will I. Remembering things in my own way. Forgetting them together with you.

Maybe now, time is not so much about learning as it is about forgetting.

Forgetting frameworks. Falling. Braking. Pleasing none.

Scattering across the endless wastes of now the boundless substance that is life.